


Camera Three

by dragonspell



Series: The Stories of Iron Heights [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider, Prison, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: “Hey, Patterson.  Can you angle camera three on the west side a little to the left and down?”  Monroe places his hand on Patterson’s chair, looking down intently at the screen that shows the far west corner of C-block.Patterson swallows, staring at the screen in front of him.  The picture is a little dark and the man’s face is half-hidden by the bare shoulder of another man but sure enough that is definitely Leonard Snart looking a lot more hot and bothered than Patterson’s ever seen him.  Mouth open like he can’t get enough air, Snart lolls his head to the side to let the other man have better access to his neck and spreads his legs a little wider.  “…Is that Mick Rory?” Patterson asks.  It sure as hell looks like Mick Rory, big and stocky and somehow standing within Snart’s personal bubble and not immediately regretting it.  Theonlyone that ever gets away with that is Rory.





	

“Hey, Patterson. Can you angle camera three on the west side a little to the left and down?” Monroe places his hand on Patterson’s chair, looking down intently at the screen that shows the far west corner of C-block.

“Uh, sure,” Patterson says. The camera angles itself, bringing two inmates into focus who seem to be lodged together in the corner. Patterson frowns, wondering if he is witnessing an assault and how he missed the lead-up to it. “Uh…” He inches the camera a little more to the left.

Behind him, Monroe leans in, grinning. “Oh, fuck yeah.” The wheels of an empty chair scream as Monroe hauls it over and plops down. He stares avidly and Patterson drops the idea that it’s an assault that they’re watching. As boring as it can get and as dangerous as the inmates are, not reporting a potential assault will cost you your job. Monroe seems unconcerned with that end result, instead, looking like he’s watching…

Like he’s watching…

Patterson’s brain finally deciphers what he’s seeing and his eyebrows reach for his hairline. “What the fuck?”

“When is the fuck?” Monroe corrects, patting him on the shoulder. “Fuck, Rookie, I know you haven’t been around long, but you know who that is, right?” He stabs at the screen. “That is Leonard fucking Snart right there. Captain I’m a goddamned ice princess Cold, only he ain’t looking so cold and frigid now, is he? Fuck, man…” He reaches down and shameless readjusts himself.

Patterson swallows, staring at the screen in front of him. The picture is a little dark and the man’s face is half-hidden by the bare shoulder of another man but sure enough that is definitely Leonard Snart looking a lot more hot and bothered than Patterson’s ever seen him. Mouth open like he can’t get enough air, Snart lolls his head to the side to let the other man have better access to his neck and spreads his legs a little wider. “…Is that Mick Rory?” Patterson asks. It sure as hell looks like Mick Rory, big and stocky and somehow standing within Snart’s personal bubble and not immediately regretting it. The _only_ one that ever gets away with that is Rory.

“Yeah, that’s fucking Heatwave,” Monroe confirms. He presses a fist to his mouth, positively giddy. “Aw, man, the boys on the midnight were talking what these two sometimes get up to but I thought it was just a joke. Holy shit. I mean bunking together, sure, but they’re _bunking_ together.” Rory raises his head to pull Snart into a kiss that has Snart wrapping his arms around Rory’s neck. “Look at that!” Monroe points at where Rory has a hold of Snart’s right leg, pulling it up at the knee to lock at Rory’s waist. “Yeah, Rory, _get it_. What do you think Snart looks like when he’s getting fucked?” Monroe glances at Patterson for a quick moment before turning back to the screen. “Think Rory’s big? I bet’s he’s big. I bet he’s a _beast_. Snart probably fucking loves it. Look at him. When’s the last time you saw Snart show that much emotion on his face? I’ll tell you when, never. Fucking never.” 

Snart certainly looks like he’s liking what Rory’s doing. Rory’s hips move in short little thrusts, pumping against where he’s got Snart spread out in front of him and one of Snart’s hands grips the back of Rory’s head while the other skates down the bare skin of his back. Rory doesn’t seem to be that fond of wearing shirts if he can help it. “Should we…should we break it up?” Patterson asks hesitantly. He hasn’t ever been in a situation like this before.

“What? Fuck no!” Monroe shakes his head. “Sit back and watch, man! This is the best damn show I’ve seen in years. Cripes, the midnight shift must get an eyeful all the damn time.” Patterson glances at Monroe and then back at the screen. “The job’s shit, Rook,” Monroe tells him. “Get your kicks where you can.”

Patterson thinks that he ought to look away—inmates or not, they still deserve their privacy—but he can’t. He’s stuck on Leonard Snart’s pretty face and Mick Rory’s bare skin. He never would have guessed that Heatwave and Captain Cold, bane of Central City, are partners in all senses of the word but it certainly explains why Snart never seems to have a problem with Rory touching him though he’ll smoothly avoid sharing space with just about everyone else in Iron Heights. Yesterday, he’d put Calhoun into the wall for getting too close. They couldn’t prove it of course, hadn’t caught it on camera no matter how many times Patterson went back through the video, but they were able to guess in between Calhoun’s wild ravings and Snart’s annoyed eye roll. Thing was, Calhoun had undoubtedly had it coming, thinking of Snart as one of his easy foldable marks. Captain Tyson had only sneered and told Calhoun that maybe he’d learn to keep his dirty paws to himself next time. 

Snart gives Rory a final kiss and then pushes him away, dodging when Rory tries to come back in. “Guess Cold’s all done thawing,” Monroe remarks, chuckling. As Snart rebuttons his outer clothes, hiding the white undershirt again, Rory runs his hands down Snart’s arms, trying to coax him back in. Rory slips under the orange coverall, brushing against Snart's chest. Snart pauses and Rory looks hopeful but Snart rebuffs him with a sharp shake of the head and a gentle push into the opposite wall. A few complicated emotions cross Rory’s face and Patterson wonders if there’s about to be an assault after all, but then Rory shrugs and follows Snart out from the corner, falling into line like it’s just been an ordinary morning.

It probably has. Patterson feels his world tilt a little at that. How much of this had been going on behind their backs? Camera three had just been altered yesterday to hit that exact corner, fixing a blindspot that had existed since the cameras had been installed. Snart and Rory could have been there _every day_ before this and unless the guards had been on the floor and paying attention, no one would have ever known.

Captain Cold and Heatwave are fucking. Captain Cold and Heatwave are fucking in camera blindspots—blindspots that they apparently _know_ about. Patterson doesn’t know which part of that unsettles him more.

Monroe smacks him. “Hey, hey, follow them.”

“The corner,” Patterson mutters, still stuck in a loop from two minutes ago. God, what else has he missed around here?

“ _Follow them_ ,” Monroe hisses.

“Alright!” The camera pans around, catching the backs of Snart and Rory as they stride across the rec area, looking like kings taking a tour of their palace. Rory waves at Reinhart, while Snart merely nods.

“Where are they going?”Monroe asks. “Is that camera seven? Eight? Hey, where’s eight?”

Patterson scrolls, bringing eight up to the main screen, a miniature of it still playing on the bank of monitors along the side panel. It’s another remote part of the room, not terribly popular with the other inmates, but too open to cause many of the usual problems. Snart and Rory are facing the camera this time, closer than before due to the lowered ceiling, and it’s easy to catch how Rory leans in from behind and presses his nose against Snart’s cheek, see how Rory’s hands snake around Snart’s midsection and stroke downward. Easy to see how Snart allows it for half a second, head tilted with a small, barely there smile, before he breaks Rory’s hold and steps away. Snart snaps at Rory and even with no sound, Patterson can make out the sharp “No.” Rory grumbles back, mouth pulled down in a frown, but only watches as Snart walks away from him again.

“Aw, man, poor Rory,” Monroe crows. “Shot down again.” He nudges Patterson. “What do you want to bet that if they were outside, this would be the part that Rory would just pick Snart up and haul his disagreeable ass to the nearest flat surface and get him to say yes?”

Patterson blinks, the image playing out in his mind, and turns back to the screen to catch Rory tossing a few books around, pretending like he’s interested in reading. “Or Snart’s only saying no because he knows they’re being watched,” Patterson says quietly. Somehow, he has the feeling that Rory’s not quite used to having his advances rebuffed, like he’s more used to Snart indulging him.

Monroe barks a laugh. “That too.”

Snart and Rory spend the rest of rec time separated, Rory skulking around the weights while Snart picks a wall to lean against, his blue eyes surveying the entirety of the room. Occasionally, Snart’s gaze alights on Rory, watching appraisingly as Rory’s muscles flex, before sliding away again. Monroe chuckles a bit more, throwing out scenarios that are implausible but intriguing anyway (“man, what if Snart were to just go over there and straddle Rory right now? I bet he wants to. Look at how he’s looking at him! If he wasn’t so buttoned-up, there’d be drool running down his chin. Or what about blowing Rory on the bench? Hell, that’d be hot.”). 

Eventually, however, Monroe gets bored and wanders off. Patterson goes back to checking the cameras. Snart ignores a few of the inmates who try to talk to him, acknowledges Smith’s badge with short nod, and just generally keeps to himself while Rory jokes with Reinhart.

“Rec time’s over!” Captain yells over the intercom and the inhabitants of C-block start shuffling back to their cells. 

Out of curiosity—just curiosity, Patterson tells himself—he flips over to camera twelve that covers cells 20 through 30 of the second level. Snart’s already there, looking bored as Rory comes down the walkway. With a slow roll of his head, Snart turns towards Rory and the camera. He smirks and heads into the cell, and Rory starts walking faster, long legs eating up the short distance left between him and Snart. Rory rounds the corner into the cell and disappears.

The cells clank shut, locking down and Patterson finds himself checking camera twelve’s angles, panning it to the left and right but all he can get is about a foot inside the cell. Snart and Rory must be farther back, though he thinks he can see a bit of the bed. Monroe is long gone for the time being, but Patterson thinks that he can still hear him in his head. It's the only explanation he's got for why he's wondering if Snart's finally letting Rory unbutton him, if he's spreading his legs or making Rory spread his. Patterson regards the view for a few moments longer, the darker parts of his mind running away with him, until Russell starts his rounds for count. He shakes himself and then heads back to camera three. He puts it back facing the corner.

When Jacobson comes in for his shift at four, he’ll tell him to keep an eye on it.

Just in case.


End file.
